


Match 80, Set.

by Zinfandel



Series: Waiting For You [13]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, First Time, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-23 10:12:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4872856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zinfandel/pseuds/Zinfandel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack wins the fight and the bet along with it and he takes the spoils. Pitch is at first not so pleased, but that quickly changes, hm?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Match 80, Set.

**Author's Note:**

> So i posted this secretely on ff.net like over a year ago because i was ashamed and this was the first time i published explicit content! lol but then my ff.net account was baleted. hahaha because i was writing explicit content! oh the irony. 
> 
> this one ends on quite the cliffhanger, though, so i apologize. 
> 
> As part of Waiting for You stuff, it would fall somewhere around their 80th battle, quite far in to their timeline & relationship, you can see why i never posted it really because damn we barely got to the 50's!

“I win.”

A bony knee pressed into Pitch’s chest and cold fingers tightened around his neck. Both spirits were heaving for breath, slushy sweat dripped from soaked white hair onto Pitch’s forehead. It was barely past 2a.m. Jack had made sure he was left with plenty of time.

Growling out a laugh Jack shifted his position to straddle Pitch’s chest and let go of his throat. Pitch in response started to protest and brought both hands up to shove Jack off. Jack quickly huffed in annoyance and grabbed both wrists pinning them into the rocks on either side of Pitch’s head.

“I said I won.”

Pitch grumbled something and Jack smirked. He leaned in close, close enough that Pitch’s slowly calming breath fogged up from Jack’s chilled exhales.

“What was that?” The boy teased.

“I said: so you have.”

“Damn right I have.”  And with that, crisp white teeth found their way to soft grey skin, biting and sucking down Pitch’s throat.

The older spirit gasped and suddenly struggled, Jack could tell this was as far from what Pitch had expected as Jack had when Pitch proposed the terms for the fight. Jack’s fingers gripped wrists harder and he licked at the deep bruising he caused on Pitch’s neck not only from teeth but from his hands earlier as well.

“This isn’t a fight anymore, they were your conditions, stop resisting.” Icy breath frosted up Pitch’s jaw.

“Then stop attacking my neck.” Pitch ground out through clenched teeth, his hands fisted and he clenched his eyes shut trying to force himself to resign to his fate.

Cold breath ghosted across his lips and Pitch squeezed his eyes shut tighter, but the next words had them snapping back open shocked.

“Then, tell me how to kiss.” Jack was looking down at his lips his own parted, slack.

“What?”

“Tell me how.” Jack demanded his knees tucked up into Pitch’s armpits tightening their grip.

“You’ve never-?”

“No, not since you practically molested my mouth that first time. Cold, dead, and invisible remember?”

Pitch quickly tried to break Jack’s grip for the third time but Jack slammed his wrists back down into the rocks, their sharp edges cutting into his skin. “Ah, ah. I won fair and square so you have to do what I want, and I want you to tell me how to kiss.”

Pitch shuddered and took a moment his mouth moving on shocked silent words. “You-“ His voice was a deep croak. “You just press your lips where-wherever.”

Jack grinned and leaned in to simply and chastely press his lips to Pitch’s cheek. In truth he knew the mechanics of a kiss, he’d seen humans do it enough times to get how it should go, it didn’t stop him from teasing. “Like this?”

“L-lips.”

And Pitch was a perfect picture of torment. Jack was giddy with the thought. He did this. The sweat, the cuts, the bruises, the blood, the pain, the desire, all of it played across this perfect canvas, practically twitching under him in anticipation. It was all his fault. He knew Pitch wanted it, he wanted it for so long, so long Jack didn’t even realize. His ignorance lead them to this, and it was amazing.

Jack soon obliged, pressing a closed mouth kiss onto Pitch’s lips for the first time. His first kiss. First real kiss. It was warm, Pitch was warm, and moist from Pitch having licked his lips a moment before in anticipation. Jack smiled against the contact but quickly pulled away as a nearly searing tongue striped across his lower lip. Pitch tried to lift himself to follow after Jack’s lips but Jack pressed him back down with his elbows into his shoulders.

Jack laughed through his nose and pressed three light trailing pecks up Pitch’s sharp cheekbone to his ear. “If I had known a simple kiss could do this to you I’d have done it back at that Easter and spared everyone the trouble.” He whispered chilled air into Pitch’s ear resulting in a delicious shiver from the body underneath him.

“Do you really think-“ Pitch tried to protest, to at least save a little bit of his dignity but was deftly cut off by cold chapped lips upon his once more turning his words into an incoherent groan.

Jack took advantage of his already open mouth and slid his tongue past Pitch’s sharp teeth and into the burning warmth behind. Pitch stiffened beneath him and he traced his cold tongue against the roof of his mouth feeling Pitch’s very breath begin to cool with such continued exposure. He loved it. He reveled in how his very presence could affect someone in such a way.

For most of his life Jack’s inherent coldness had been a detriment. He could kill weaker things, like children, just from hanging around them for too long. That was before (ok, even after) the innovations of mass production, coal stoves, and the affordability of cheaply made garments. His chilly existence aside, Jack also found himself afraid that little actions he thought nothing of could unwittingly harm others. A snow-day made too eagerly with snow too deep had branches snapping, power going out, people injuring themselves trying to drive or shovel through it. He felt himself going mad at the self-recrimination from it all. He had to constantly keep himself and his powers in check.

Not with Pitch.

Jack would be as cold as he liked, even force his surrounding atmosphere to new and lower temperatures just to see what Pitch could take. He could take it all, and he reminded Jack with a sneer that the boy could never in his wildest dreams give Pitch a chill the way space could. Jack loved it.

Loved it so much he breathed ice directly into Pitch’s mouth that sent the man into a coughing fit as he choked on his own breath. Jack sat back releasing his wrists and laughed.

Pitch’s chest heaved and he made to sit up but once again Jack pinned him down with a firm palm on his sternum.

“I know what you planned if you had won.” Jack said, his fingers digging into exposed grey flesh just enough to sting. “Did you come prepared?”

Pitch’s face flushed dark and he flopped his head back against the ground in defeat, but before Jack could laugh at him again he lifted a palm and darkness swirled in it as he summoned a bottle of lubricant and condoms.

Jack took the lube from him and gestured at the condoms with a grin. “How human of you, Boogeyman.” He teased.

“I didn’t know what you’d prefer…” Pitch mumbled bringing a hand up to cover his eyes as he vanished the condoms with a twist of his wrist. He peeked a glance out from between his fingers when Jack wasn’t instantly making fun of him again.

Pitch pulled his hand completely from his face when he saw Jack was blushing in his own right. Blue colored the whole way to his ears and for the first time since Pitch knew he was going to lose the damn fight did he smile again.

Jack mumbled a quiet appreciative “Thank you,” as he stuffed the lube into his hoodie pocket. His other hand gently trailed up Pitch’s collar and cold fingers touched and smoothed over the abuse on his neck. Jack smiled benignly at the allowed contact that had nothing to do with breaking a bone. His thumb went up and smeared at Pitch’s lower lip pulling it to the side and let go letting the soft skin move back into place.

“You know,” Jack said, quietly mesmerized by the skin under his fingers. “You’re the first person in the history of, like, ever that I’ve touched like this.”

The responding groan had Jack smiling a mischievous grin full of bright teeth. Pitch brought his hands up and gripped Jack by the upper arms intending to pull him back down for another kiss. Jack quickly protested by twirling his own arms around Pitch’s forcing them off of him. He placed his hands on Pitch’s shoulders and Pitch replaced his own on Jack’s elbows lightly, not demanding to take control again. Jack put his weight into his palms pressing Pitch back into the stone and lifted his himself off of his ribs. He scooched himself down Pitch’s torso, his knees coming in on either side to slide Pitch’s robe completely open at the waist.

His wrists twisted in and Jack hooked his fingers under the neckline of the robe, pulling it open far enough before sliding his hands in to press his palms into each pectoral. Pitch’s chest swelled with breath and Jack sat back down right across his hips. The breath stuttered into a heaving gasp and Jack was the one to hum a close lipped groan this time as he felt Pitch’s hardness against his ass, through both layers of pants.

Jack shifted his hips and moved so that Pitch’s length pressed right into the cleft of his ass and he bit at his bottom lip in a subdued grin as he felt Pitch shift under him his heels digging and scraping into rock. Jack smoothed his fingers up under the robe to grey shoulders shrugging the garment off and down his upper arms to his elbows humming in approval all the way. Pitch was breathing through his mouth his teeth bared in an attempt to put up with Jack’s slow paced teasing.

He was fit under his robes, a fact Jack knew well enough. They tended to shred up clothing during their bouts, Pitch often concentrating on the fight and disregarding the state of his shadow clothes, sometimes ending up topless by the end. He was so tall, his muscles like taught ropes wiry but inconceivably strong.  His skin was still flush and dark from exertion.

Hips bucked up into him and Jack leaned forwards taking his weight from Pitch’s hips. He licked the underside of Pitch’s jaw because he couldn’t quite reach his lips, the man was way too tall. He blew breath over the wet trail he left and watched as it froze to Pitch’s skin.

“You’re going to have to beat me if you want to fuck me.”

“Jack…”

“Hmm?” Jack replied as he lifted himself back to his knees and eased forwards just those last few inches to place his lips at the corner of Pitch’s mouth.

“Jack please-“ His voice was practically a wheeze.

Jack kissed him fully this time pressing closed almost blue lips to dark grey ones. He eased Pitch’s mouth back open with his teeth and scraped them against Pitch’s, moving his lip out of the way. He spoke directly into the heat that reestablished itself in Jack’s absence. “Let me get a few more kisses in before we move on. You’re too tall…” He tilted his head to the side his hands coming up to cup both cheeks, “…to do both.”

\---ch. Break--

Pitch was huffing out plumes of steam by the time Jack slid back down his torso. He loved the image as he let his boogeyman partially sit up, positioning himself between his knees. Frost dripped from Pitch’s chin and slid, melting, down his chest, lacy fronds ruined by his body heat. Jack rubbed his hands down gray flanks, his fingers danced along the shadowy hem of Pitch’s pants, who meanwhile was propped on his elbows looking ravenous.

“Well?” Jack asked, raising his eyebrows.

The shadow pants melted away at the request, Pitch complying easily. His cock bobbed free as they disappeared and stood long, lean, and flushed dark. Jack’s hands hovered and he actually sat back on his heels taking in the sight. He was really doing this, wasn’t he?

He won. He had the right. Pitch wanted this; he wanted to do this too. This was the next thing, this was something he always desired – intimacy. Contact with another being, to not be alone. But this was foreign, this sort of touch was beyond him. Punches he knew, cuts, injury, healing, physical pain was what he knew. Gentleness? He could be gentle. Jack Frost, who made the most delicate frost lace could be gentle…right?

No, he was not out of his depth. He couldn’t be. Jack had done plenty of new things before with far less fuss, he was just working himself up-

“You’re scared!” Pitch practically choked with laughter.

**Author's Note:**

> again, apologies for the open ending. Suffice it to say Jack rides that D like a rodeo champ after being mercilessly made fun of and then reassured and comforted because Pitch u asshole, you can't demean ur sex partner and expect them to willingly then get dicked.
> 
> I foresaw Pitch making fun of Jack being scared, Jack responding by mildly concussing the idiot, and then Pitch apologizing and admitting that Shit Man, who fucks the king of Shadows anyways? I'm right up shit creek with ya, here have my paddle, we'll navigate the choppy seas together, oh but stay a little afraid for me, hm? That feels *amazing*


End file.
